Adultery and Cheek Biting
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: What? It's not normal to openly discuss cheating in the bedroom with your wife? Next thing you know, you'll be saying it's not normal to describe to your wife just the type of woman you'd leave her for... One-shot.


"-talking to him and I had just started chewing on this piece of gum and somehow, that wound up with me biting this huge chunk out of my mouth and, I mean, shit like that happens all the time in the ring or whatever, but when I'm in the office? That's just fucking annoying."

"Uh-huh," Steph sighed, lying there in bed, head resting on a pillow as she watched her husband stand by his side of the bed, slowly undressing for the night. "Bet that hurts."

"It does," Paul said with a nod of his head. "It's fucking terrible."

"That's kind of a bit of an overstatement," she yawned, still just watching. "Babe."

"You get your little ass over here and let me bite a chunk out of your cheek and see what you think."

Skewing her eyes shut, Steph only hummed. "Mmmm. I'mma tell my big brother you said that. So he can beat you up."

"What? You think if Shane's around that I suddenly can't knock your ass out when I wanna? Try me. I'll knock his ass out too."

"Abuse jokes before bed. I love it."

"It's not abuse if you like it, Stephie." He went to flick on the lamp by his bedside before going to turn out the overhead light in their bedroom. "It's foreplay."

She was silent though, watching as he settled into bed, kicking down his side of the covers and not even pulling the back atop his body. This didn't bother her though, as she was all bundled up under hers, her head the only thing showing. He felt her eyes too, in the silence, as he reached over to his nightstand first to be sure his phone was hooked into its charger and then to life up the worn paperback he currently was on, hoping the monotonous words would help him drift off. Sleep came easy on evenings where he didn't crawl into bed until midnight, at the earliest, but nights like the one they were in then, when the house was still before nine and his phone hadn't rung or received a message in nearly two hours, it would be so much better to catch up on a few winks.

If his body would just cooperate…

He'd just cracked open the novel and was about to be reminded why he hated it so much when his wife spoke.

"Have you ever cheated on me?"

He glanced at her, once, then he glared, and then he wen back to his book. "You're not tricking me, Steph."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, but I feel a trick coming."

"How is that a trick question?"

"'cause it's coming from you. Trickster."

"It sounds," she said in a bit of a louder tone then (but not too loud because the last thing they wanted to do was wake one of the girls back up), "like you're stalling."

"I'm not stalling." He set the book down on his chest then, still opened to his page, as he was hoping to get back to it soon. Turning his head to the side, he stared his wife straight in the eyes. "I have never cheated on you."

"Oh, I know." This response got a frown out of the man, but her reaching over to scratch at his beard got her hand shoved away. "I was asking as a lead in."

"A lead in to what?"

"Even more questions."

"Great," he grumbled as she only grinned sleepily over at him. "Well, what if I said yes?"

"It would have negated the other questions."

"Then yes. I cheat on you so much." Picking his book up, he said, "Now, goodni-"

"Paul."

"Stephie, I wanna read and go to bed."

"I know, baby." Her hand slipped back under the covers once more as she tugged them even tighter around her, cold, apparently. "But things have been bothering me."

"Steph, if this is some sort of scam to get it to where you can cheat, but I can't cheat, because you think you're a higher commodity than I am-"

"Oh, yeah, sure, that's it. I really believe that."

"-then the answer is no. My dick doesn't go into things that have had other dicks in it recently." He dropped his book again and turned his head to the side to stare at her. "And you should believe it. You're a way higher caliber than I am."

"Am not."

"Are so."

"And it's not like, in that scenario, I'd come back from sleeping with a guy and immediately sleep with you."

"How do I know that? Huh? My dick don't touch other dicks. It's a rule."

"You're sound like you're in high school."

"I'd have to go back to wearing condoms." Paul's eyes widened. "Imagine that horror. A nearly fifty year old guy going into a store to buy condoms."

"Stop it."

"It'd be so embarrassing, to the teens behind the counters, to know what size I need. They'd be shocked."

"...Are you saying that you think other people thing you have a small penis, but you have a big one or are you saying that people think you have a large one and you don't? Because I'm a bit confused by-"

"Madness. Pure insanity."

"And why are you wearing a condom? In this scenario? Because you think I'm bringing home diseases to you? Or is that somehow absolving you from...being where another… Can we go back to what I was talking about?"

"Sure, babe. You were talking about going to bed," he remarked. "Right?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Paul-"

"What do you wanna talk about, Stephie?"

"Just stuff that's been bothering me."

"Like what?"

"Just… You know that the older we get and the more we drift apart, the more likely it is that one of us will cheat on the other, right?"

"Who's drifting?" He raised his eyebrows that time. "Are you? 'cause I just had a rousing conversation on my dick size in a way I could only have with my best friend. Were you not feeling that vibe?"

"I mean-"

"I'm not drifting."

"Further and further away from the point you sure are."

"Steph, I just don't see that as our issue." His tone was a bit more serious then and, grabbing his book, he sat it once more on the nightstand, page he'd been on be damned, as he gave his wife his full attention. "I like being around you. Like, even before we were sleeping together or there was a chance of it, I always did. I still do. We could stop being romantic with one another in anyway tomorrow and we'd still be friends."

"Not if you were being romantic with another woman, we would not be."

"I'd still be friends with you," he said then, placing a hand to his chest, "if you left me for another man."

"Bullshit."

"Absolute truth." His head was to the side so that his eyes could lock with her blues. "I'd lose my job if I wasn't."

Steph hated the grin he got out of her then, fighting it as she said, "Daddy would ditch me for you in a heartbeat."

"It's curse," Paul agreed softly with a nod of his head. "Who can resist wanting me as a son? I'll tell you who; no one with a brain."

Wait. So no one with a brain can resist or-"

"I'm perfection embodied. Look at me."

"All the time, baby."

"You leave me," he warned, "I'mma go out and get me a twenty-five year old."

"That's gross." Steph's smile fell. "Really."

"I'll get two of 'em then. There."

"How is that better?"

"You add up their ages, they're older than me!"

"You're not funny."

"Then why are you laughing, baby?"

"Because you're stupid."

"Be a Star, Stephie." It was his turn to reach over, though he only tapped gently under her chin. "We're never drifting apart."

Nodding, she swallowed a bit as it was his turn to watch, waiting until she asked, "But what if we do?"

"Then we'd fix it," he told her. "I wanna be with you for the rest of my life."

"Do you?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Or do you wanna be in my daddy's company for the rest of your life?"

"How are we back on this? Sheesh. You give a woman nearly two decades of your life-"

"You brought it up!"

"Did not."

"Literally a minute ago, you said-"

'It was more like three and that's basically five which is basically ten which means it's basically ancient."

"You sound like you're stalling again."

"Steph, would I put babies into you if I wasn't serious about you?"

"After that condom rant, I'm not so sure."

"I was just trying to save those poor, teenage drug store clerks from being embarrassed."

"Again, over what exactly?"

Ignoring that, Paul only said, "Besides, baby,, if I did wanna cheat on you-"

"Now you wanna get back on topic?"

"-I'd tell you about it first."

For a moment, Steph was quiet. Then, softly, she asked, "Why?"

"So we could, all three, you know, fuck together."

"That's not… What?"

"Baby, I'm saving our marriage."

"I've watched a lot of movies and reality TV and loads of those stupid court divorce shows."

"My electric bill knows."

"I've never seen... _that_ save anything."

'It would be if you weren't such a prude and would admit how attractive the woman I'mma pick out for us is gonna be and how hot it would be. And I don't know what you're talking about, unhappy, because I see plenty of polygamists who are pretty dang happy. I mean-"

"We're not diverging again. You can't make me angry and get me to stop talking to you. We're talking about what I want." Stephanie reached a hand out from underneath her blanket once more, reaching over to poke his nose. Leaving her finger there, she said, "And I'm gonna tell your father that you said you want us to be polygamists."

"What? No."

"Yes."

"That's not fair."

"I'm gonna tell him to send you all sorts of religious stuff. To put you back on the right track."

"Stephanie-"

"And then I'm gonna tell your mom."

"You can't."

"She's gonna be so disappointed in you."

"I hate you."

"I'm gonna tell her that too."

"It's not even fair," he complained again as he finally shoved her finger off his nose. "I can't ever rat you out to your parents because you guys are, like, fucking satanists or something-"

"We are not."

"Steph."

"The absence of religion isn't satanism."

"Is where I'm from."

"And we're religious, anyways."

"Your father fought the Savior. In the ring."

Steph shifted a bit as she muttered, "That's still an acknowledgment."

"You wanna talk about divorce, my parents about got ready for me to leave you right then and there."

"I don't though. I wanna talk about cheating."

"Hmmm."

"I just," she started again, eyes on him once more, "wanna say that I don't ever want to look like an idiot. Don't ever make me look stupid."

"Steph, you do that pretty well on your own."

"Would you sleep better on the couch, Paul?"

"Since there's actual sleep involved in that-"

"If we were staying up doing literally anything you wanted, you'd be fine with it. But since it's what I want-"

"You want to talk about cheating! I mean, come on, babe. What the fuck do you want me to say?" Shaking his head, it was his turn again to reach out, hand falling on her cheek as he shifted to his side. "Stephie, if this is a long, jokey way of you seriously being concerned about all this, don't be. And if it's a drawn out way of you telling me that you're fucking around on me or are planning to or some shit then, fuck you. I wanna go to sleep and you keep me up for that? Who the fuck does that?" Thumb stroking at her cheek, he said, "I mean, you take someone out to a nice meal for that shit. Break it to them gently. Not laying in bed after a long day's work. That's demented. Although, you are a satanist-"

"Stop saying that."

"Hmmm." He watched her eyes for a minute before softly whispering, "It's neither of those though, is it?"

"I mean, gosh, I'd hope if it was, you'd be more into the conversation."

"Then what is it?" His thumb stilled and, for a moment, he saw her face change, though she quickly went back to just staring. He'd seen enough though. Grinning a bit, he whispered, "Steph."

"What?"

"I saw you smile."

"I did not."

"That was your 'I've got a secret' smile."

"I don't smile different when I have secrets."

"You definitely do, baby." He dropped his hand from her cheek then as he looked off. "Who's cheating on someone?"

"Paul-"

"Is it someone I know?"

"Kinda."

"So not family."

"Well, I wouldn't be grinning about it if it was family."

"So you were smiling!"

"Shhh." Stephanie pushed up then, to her knees, and Paul only watched as she reached for her bedside for a hair tie. As she pulled her hair back, she told him, "Don't wake the girls."

"Or the dog," he added with a bit of a frown. Andre, their puppy, had been bothering him all day. The dog was officially too big to be running full blast as an unsuspecting person. It was, however, also his favorite game. "Did I ever tell you I liked Bluto better?"

"Hush." Falling back into bed then, Steph asked, "Now do you really wanna know?"

Nodding his head, Paul said, "Mmmhmm."

"See? You always tell me that you're a man and men don't gossip, but the second I know something good-"

"I don't like that petty shit that you peddle around. But fucking around? Now that's interesting."

When this was met with a silent stare, he coughed into his hand.

"It's gross though," he clarified as Steph only nodded, as if approving of his revision. "Horrible. But-"

"Okay, so, you remember that woman that lived on Dad's street that I used to go to brunch with all the time?"

"She's fucking around on her husband? What a slut."

"Paul."

"What? I'm giving real time commentary."

"Well don't." Then she reached over and hit at his chest. "And don't even say that word as a joke anymore."

"Well, don't hit me anymore then," he complained, glaring over at her then. "I can't say slut, but you can physically abuse me?"

"You hit me all the time."

"I pat your head, you little slut. Not-"

"I'm telling your mom about this too."

"Anyways-"

" _Anyways_ , I ran into her at the grocery store the other day-"

"When did you go to the store?"

"I go to the store all the time."

"I go to the store. The nannies go to the store. When did you go to the store?"

"The gas station then, fine, whatever. Shut up, Paul."

"Stephanie McMahon going to a fucking store. What do I look like? A moron?"

"I literally went to the freaking store three weeks ago and got stuck there for two hours. What more do you want from me?"

"You didn't get stuck. That's how long it takes to buy groceries when you're incompetent and don't know what you're getting."

"You're about to not to get to hear the story."

"I'm listenin'," he carped, but they were both grinning at one another and man, did that make them fucked in the head, to be bonding over someone else's broken marriage?

Probably.

But then, considering some of their best memories of their early dating years were him going out into a ring and calling her way worse things than 'slut', it would be kinda hard to cry foul.

"Not very well."

"Maybe because you're pretty shitty at telling a story-"

"I was at the gas station, went inside, ran into her, she was on her lunch break, I had mine free, we had lunch, we talked for awhile and were catching up and she just broke down on me about how he was cheating on her and she knew it and it was with this woman that he was going to leave her for. There. Is that what you want?"

For a moment, he only laid there. Then he opened his jaw wide, just staring at her in pretend shock. Stephanie was giving him a look too, but she was pretty much always doing that.

"I'm more surprised- nee, angry," he corrected, "that you waited so long to tell me."

"It was fucking killing me."

"I bet. You tell me everything."

"I have to. It just eats at me until I do."

"You'dda exploded if you didn't get it out."

"I really would have."

"What was with the long lead up then?"

"I was debating whether or not to tell you," she said with a bit of a shrug. "I promised I wouldn't say anything to anyone. But you're not just anyone."

"Right." He nodded. "I'm a nobody."

"You're my husband. My man." Steph smiled truly then. "I tell you everything, eventually."

"Probably too much," he added. "I mean, your creepy fantasies about us being polygamists was more than enough for me, thanks."

"I didn't say that. You said that."

"Not how I remember it. Just wait tell It ell my mom-"

"Not if I tell her first."

"Who would she believe? Me? Or you? The satan-"

"I hate you."

"I love you, baby, too, so much." Paul was tugging the covers up around him then, so that he could slide on over to her side of the bed, pulling them all the way up and over their heads. As Steph slipped her arm around his neck, he asked, "What'd you do next?"

"What could I have done?" Steph asked, their voices sounded deadened then, beneath their heavy sheets. "I sat with her and she apologized and I asked her what she was gonna do and she told me that she was gonna confront him in the most embarrassing way possibly. You know, real movie like."

"Chick-flick like, you mean. And that never goes well."

Stephanie only shrugged. Then, in the dark, she frowned and shoved at his chest again.

Paul frowned. "What?"

"How come you didn't call him a name for being a cheater?"

"It's a man thing, baby," he said as she shoved some more. "It's just part of- I'm kidding, stop hitting me. Shit, Steph."

"You wouldn't joke that way with anyone else. You're just doing it to pick on me."

"No shit." He shoved her back some then. "Did I not say you were my closest friend earlier."

"Best, but closest sounds much cuter, so fine."

"Have you talked to her since? Or-"

"No, Paul, I haven't called her and gone, 'Did you leave your husband yet?' because that's fucking weird."

"Stop cursing. It turns me on. And this conversation is weird enough without me trying to fuck you during it."

"Have you not been trying to this whole night?"

"Ah, no. I've been trying to go to bed, thanks."

"Well, I'm offended."

"I mean, if you want it, fine, but just know I'm only putting out because you're making me-"

"Shut up."

"Don't tell me to shuddup. You shuddup."

Steph was giggling as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his chest. Head resting there, she whispered, "I will admit, I have been going to that specific gas station since then, hoping to run into her-"

"That's my girl."

"I hope nothing happened to her."

"Hope she nails her no good, dirty, rotten skank of a husband to the wall."

"Say that word again."

"Husband."

"The other one."

"Wall."

"Paul-"

"Skank."

"I like how you emphasis it. Your lips curl a bit."

"Do they?"

"One more time."

"Skank."

"Yeah. They do."

"You like when they do that?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Want me to snarl for you?"

"Actually, no. 'cause your breath stinks a bit and it's killing me already, under this blanket, and-"

"Can I say bitch? Because you're being a bitch."

"Not in that context."

"Not even with my closest friend?"

"Well, I could see arrangements being made- What are you doing? I just put that up?"

"And I'm taking it down" he said as he tugged her hair free of the tie once more, perhaps a bit too hard. As Stephanie glared and he flicked the hair tie away, down further under the covers, he added, "Bitch."

And Stephanie was laughing and he was trying to keep a straight face because none of the night had been funny, really, they were probably just tired, and shit, he was wasting his extra sleep time, but damn if Steph didn't make it worthwhile.

Steph made everything worthwhile.

"Fuck, Steph."

"Gross. Ew. Yuck. Damn it, Paul."

Well, most everything.

"Damn it, Paul? Damn it, you! Steph! Why'd you run your tongue on my cut?"

"Um, I was kissing my husband and he didn't tell me where that nasty bite in his mouth was-"

"Why was your tongue all on my cheek anyways? Who fucking kisses goodnight that way?"

"You put your tongue in my mouth!"

"It hurts."

"You're such a baby."

"I'm a baby? Where are you going?"

"To wash my mouth out. Yuck. I probably got your mouth pus."

"That's not a thing."

"That is a thing. And that cut or bite or whatever it is you did to your cheek is sick. It's so huge! How did you cut up your mouth that much from one bite? Freak."

"You're a freak!"

"Am not."

"I'm telling my mother that you like to touch my cut with your tongue."

"Okay, well, only a freak would tell his own mother that-"

"Well, I can't tell yours. Don't satanists like blood and pus?"

"Stop saying that!"

And that was enough for Andre, it seemed, as they could hear his loud thumps as he came running up the stairs and down the hall to their bedroom at the end of it, letting out a long bark on the way.

Steph was gracious enough to open the bedroom door on her way to their on suite bathroom.

"Andre, no!"

Paul had gotten up too, in order to get the dog to calm down before he (or them, honestly; they'd broken the quiet rule a few times over by that point) woke the girls, but it was too late.. He was barreling right over to his father, unable to skid to a stop in time to avoid a collision that made that man fall back into bed and, of course, the girls all wake up at the commotion.

"This is all your fault,," Paul grumbled to his wife when it took another hour to get the house all calmed down once more and them finally able to climb back into their own bed.

"My fault?"

"Your fault."

"You're the one that kissed me. And fell. And yelled."

"You hurt my cut!"

"So?"

"Stephie-"

"Go to sleep." And was burrowing under the covers alone then. "Paul."

"Hardly gonna get any extra at all now, you know."

"Whiner."

"If you'd have never made me talk and just let me pretend to read that stupid book-"

"You loved hearing my story and you know it.

Oh, he knew. And she knew.

But he was still gonna bitch about it.

"You mean your fake story about going to the grocery store?"

"It wasn't fake. I mean, yeah, I was at a gas station, but it was the store in the gas station."

"Steph in a store. You can't even cook."

"I can too." Then she paused. "I mean, I make edible food."

"Ah, Steph, it's pronounced eatable."

"No, Paul, it's not. Those are two different words."

"Bullshit."

"Not edible."

"These are the things that drive a married man to get a girlfriend, you know?"

"I really don't care anymore. I wanna go to bed."

"So did I; two hours ago." He tsked. "It's not drifting you have to worry about, baby. It's another woman cooking me real food and not correcting me on things."

"You corrected me! And you were wrong."

"She'd make me steak and mashed potatoes and not talk back and I'd go there, when I was tired of you, to her apartment I'd set her up with, and we'd fuck, and she can probably bake too."

"Probably."

"And clean. Can you clean?"

"Can you?"

"Touche."

"And how many twenty-five year olds know to cook, clean, _and_ bake?"

"Uh, ones that don't grow up a princess and get spoiled rotten and would appreciate a man like myself stepping in and saving them a life of actually working themselves to death."

"I'm not coming out of these covers, so you better just stop."

"I'll coax you out eventually. She'd probably give blows too, more frequently than, oh, never."

"Shut up."

"We'd have that kinky shit."

"Ew, what would you two being doing with shit?"

"Kinky stuff."

"That's gross."

"I might not even come back home."

"We have kids together, you know."

"Hmmm."

"Yeah."

"I mean, I'd probably win custody of them in a court hearing when I tell the judge you're a satan-"

"I'm so done with you." Her head popped back up to find him sitting up in bed, his lamp still on, a real shit eating grin on his face. "You know that?"

Reaching over to turn out his lamp finally, he said, "I know."

Stephanie moved over to his side then, not to rest against him, but to lay her head on his pillow and kinda give him less room, but he was fine with it as the yawns set in and he had no need for his crummy paperback.

"You're a jerk."

With a groan, he leaned down to kiss her forehead that time, instead, and whisper, "The fuck I need a cook for? Who sucks dick? And is hot? And young? When I got you?"

"You're not helping yourself."

"Did I," he began, "or did I not say earlier that you're a far hotter commodity than me, my dear, closest friend?"

"You lied about it before, yeah, fine."

"You kidding, Steph?"

"Are you?"

"Look at you."

"Look at you."

"I do. A lot. I'm hot. I know. Give myself boners."

"Um-"

"But not as many as you give me. Still give me."

"You're so weird."

"We're weird together."

"I'm not weird."

"Stephie."

"I'm not."

"Mmmm." Resting on his back once more, he whispered, "You think your friend will be okay?"

"She's not my real friend." Then Stephanie paused. "But I hope so. It was funny when we were talking about, but I felt horrible for her when she was so upset."

Nodding his head a bit, Paul said, "Like how you thought my cut was nothing until-"

"Baby, I'm serious, how does someone bite their cheek that badly?"

"I was chewing gum! I don't know what happened."

"My poor baby." He was rewarded with a kiss to the cheek. "You're so strong to go on every day with that."

"I mean, blowing a quad? I can deal with that. But this? Keeping me from getting your tongue shoved down my throat? I can't deal with that."

"You're the one-"

"I'm injured, baby. Don't yell at me."

Stephanie glared at him, he could feel it even though his eyes were closed, but then the bed was shifting and they were through for the night, finally, truly, as Steph went back to her wide of the bed and he only reached his hand nearest to her out to fall against her side.

"Love you," she muttered and, grinning to himself, he repeated it back to her.

In the morning, he was groggy and Steph was a bit of a grouch, but the girls and Andre were all wired before breakfast, even. Paul and Steph hardly got to speak to one another before they had to be out the door, but as Steph was saying goodbye to Andre (she was such a baby about those sorts of things; he was a damn dog) and reminding him in a baby voice, between her proclamations of love, that his walker would be around in about an hour, Paul was rooting around the living room where they were for something and stopped, suddenly, just staring at her, down there, with the dog.

The girls were in the car already and he could hear them, as the door to the garage was open and they were so rowdy that morning, but he only stood there, watching her until she felt his eyes.

Glancing up at him, her hands still cupping her puppy's large snout, she only made a face. "What?"

"I just… I wouldn't cheat on you, baby."

"Paul-"

"I know, we gotta go, but I just wanted to be serious. For one moment. I wouldn't- No. If he runs over to me and ruins my pants- Steph get your dog!"

And that was the end of the conversation. For then. He was sure it would come up again, eventually. But though all their teasing and jokes and that truly one singular moment of just being real, he knew that she got what he got.

They were special.

They got each other.

It wasn't a lie when he said that he loved her. Or that they were so close. That he could spend every day with her and, though he might bark a bit at her, still be glad to do so.

Steph and he were a packaged deal. In and out of the ring.

He wouldn't risk that for anything.

Not even someone who could cook.

Or, you know, not keep him up for hours for no dang real reason…

Steph would always be his and he'd always be hers, so long as neither truly fucked it up. And with the risk of losing the other, he had a pretty good feeling neither ever would.

"When'd you go out and get this?" he asked at work later that very day when she showed up in his office, just to drop a little travel size tube of Orajel on his desk. He'd been typing something and originally stopped to gripe at whoever hadn't knocked before entering, but then was looking after his wife, who was already heading away, off back to whatever she was doing that day. "Steph?"

"When I snuck away to the gas station."

"You're so weird."

"For your cut. To numb it."

"Yeah," he grumbled as he opened the package it came in. "I got it. Can't believe they have this at a gas station."

"Well, it's more of a store, but-"

"Stephie-"

"I might just have to call her," she said as she stood in his doorway, staring back at him. "You know."

"I just might even. I gotta hear this big climax of the story."

"Mmmhmm. Because you're not a gossip, right?"

"Not," he grumbled as he struggled a bit, getting the cap of the thing off, Steph disappearing back into the hall during this time, "at all."


End file.
